It struck me as an unusual prompt.
However, in usual Swirly fashion thoughts came thick and fast and locked my phone keyboard at the speed I was trying to write all my firing synaptic connections and word catalytic converters into more blog post ideas. Unfortunately the ideas hit me right in the midst of an emotionally weak wobble.
Writing has always been my refuge. My ability to say things out loud had always evaded me since, well, for decades. I was encouraged to start writing again whilst waiting for my Therapy counselling to commence. I was frozen and unable to speak for many sessions.
I kept a diary as a child/teenager.
Disney style covers cradling a youngsters growing up. Of fish fingers for tea and school bullies. Leading into my Saturday jobs and my first real life crush on a much older man. I was 15/16, he was a married man at least ten years older. There was never anything inappropriate between us. The only person I can currently recall that didn’t overstep boundaries or well, anything else the others later did.
My diary reveals conversations I had with him. Verbatim. Quite cringe worthy now. I guess we all go through that stage of realising we’re moving into adolescence and “grown up feelings” for our crushes etc.
Flicking through the teenage years diaries, by now I was using ‘page a day’ styles– picking up one of the last ‘childhood’ teenage years, it stops……. Mid way through the day.
I know exactly why and the life changing moment that caused my educational and mental development into adulthood.
Months and months of pages to the back cover laid blank.
I didn’t remember exactly the moment my intellectual development had halted, when later asked in therapy, I knew I’d stopped effectively communicating.
There it was.
In my appalling handwriting, typically leaky fountain pen, too
The date and the last recorded entry
A family holiday
“Today we’re going to “xxxxxxxxxxx”
Daddy is very excited to see (this venue) after seeing it on TV. Mum’s not fussed. We’re going to a [famous restaurant] for early dinner to keep Mum happy and I’m going to practice my French to order our meals ….”
And ironically, that was the moment recent memories converged with my teenage self.
The silent treatment began
I learned how to punish myself.
@Swirlingfire, 19 November 2018
November 23, 2018 @ 9:58 pm
I kept diaries a lot as a child into teenage years – 1 year I was writing on a wall calendar so I used a code. My mum had to warn me that my granny was reading my diary!
Wonderful that you shared this – I’m so glad you have an outlet to ‘order’ your thoughts nowadays.
November 24, 2018 @ 8:08 am
I really enjoy learning about other people’s outlets to purge their thoughts.
The order of organic retrieval of memories is not chronological. Journalling in the former if a blog posts certainly does bring some orider & clarity.
November 22, 2018 @ 6:03 pm
Journaling was pretty much the only voice I had as a young girl. Then I joined the school paper and found a new, public voice that was only partially my own. Now, as a blogger, my voice has and is evolving. I still find it hard to speak. And I know that if I lost my ability to write, I would lose my soul.
November 22, 2018 @ 6:13 pm
Beautiful words thoughts and sentiments.
I hope your writing gathers strength and aids your voice as I too find mine.
November 22, 2018 @ 2:44 pm
I am also an avid journal keeper… sometimes. But I find when I probably most need to be journaling, I can’t/ don’t want to. It’s a weird conundrum. I traveled around the world for three years, you would think I would want to keep track of events, please, experiences… and I could hardly be bothered to keep up the blog I started for it, let alone my own musings. Weird how that works, eh? Thanks for sharing your experiences.
November 22, 2018 @ 2:52 pm
Thankyou for taking the time to read and respond.
I don’t have a set time daily to journal.
I do find a phrase or new word /terminology can send my thoughts swirling around my head.
It’s really help with trauma counselling.
Hopefully you’ll find your muse again soon?
November 23, 2018 @ 10:02 pm
November 21, 2018 @ 4:43 pm
I was never able to keep a diary going for very long though I tried. My life just seemed so dull when I looked back. Part of the trouble was that I didn’t really write anything of any meaning. Your post is a really insightful look at how important writing is and has been to you and what happens when you can no longer write. Thank you.
November 21, 2018 @ 11:38 pm
Writing helps me regain focus. I still ‘zone out’. Rather than slipping back into numbness or denial it really helps.
Plus it means my accidentally shouty on Twitter has definitely reduced
November 21, 2018 @ 11:04 am
I have tried many times to keep a diary, but writing about myself and things I did always felt stupid. Strangely enough writing about myself now in adulthood, and with accepting that I am who I am, doesn’t feel stupid at all. I think it’s special that you still have your diaries, even though they carry bad memories…
November 21, 2018 @ 1:03 pm
I now think of my diary in terms of a journal of thoughts/feelings /direct my angry purges. I use a blank notebook or word pad now, not the traditional day/date style. As a journalling it’s not a pressure to get something else checked off a list.
Thankyou for your words